


come home to me

by cashewdani



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Hair Washing, M/M, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 03:21:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1330030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cashewdani/pseuds/cashewdani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>WRITE PART OF THE FIC WHERE GRIMMY AND HAZ HANG OUT AFTER GRIMMY'S DEATH BIKE RIDE - as per irishmizzy</p>
            </blockquote>





	come home to me

Harry is pacing the halls when Nick finally gets his front door unlocked on attempt number three.

"Shit, you’re okay, right? You’re okay?"

And Nick’s pretty sure that he is. It had hurt worse than anything he’d ever felt before on that bike, but either he went into one of those endorphin comas or he’s dead, because right now it kind of just feels like he’s had way too many Red Bulls. He’s shaky, basically, with electric eels in his blood. That’s a description that makes sense right? 

He realizes he still hasn’t said anything, hasn’t even let go of the doorknob. ”Maybe?” he answers.

"Come sit down. Christ," Harry says, taking Nick by the elbow like he’s a gran.

"I don’t want to sit," he whines out. "I don’t even know if I can sit. Can people lose the ability to sit?"

Harry smiles at him like he thinks he’s cute and not being a ridiculous person who has had exercise fry his mind. ”I think one day you’ll be able to sit again. But what do you want to do now? What can I do?”

"Wash my hair?" Nick says, because they’d let him take a shower at the gym at work, but his neck, and his back, and everything really, had been far too tight to do more than stand there under the lukewarm spray.

"Wash your hair?" He says with a laugh. "Really?"

Nick might honestly start to cry for like the seventeenth time today, he just feels so pitiful. ”I can’t lift my arms, it’s too hard. You have to help.”

"Okay," Harry says, walking him slowly down the hallway. "So, did you use your arms to ride the bike?"

"Shut up, I made a difference in the world today. What did you do? Learn a dance?" It sounded mean in his head and out loud, but Harry’s still just smiling.

"Actually, yeah."

He says, “Bet you were great,” because even dead or nearly dead, he’s still incredibly fond of this stupid too sweet boy. 

"We’ll get there."

When they finally arrive at the bathroom door, the longest trip Nick’s ever taken there, he remembers he has a ridiculously tall tub and no ability to make his legs get him in there. ”Oh, shit.”

"What?" Harry asks, the grip around Nick’s waist tightening. "What’s wrong?"

"I can’t…" he takes a shuddery breath. "I can’t get in there."

"Okay, that’s okay," Harry says. "What if we do this? Here, i’m going to try something." He kind of props Nick up against the wall and he blearily watches as Harry drags a chair in from the kitchen and collects more towels than Nick knew he even owned. He folds them, over and over, and layers the seat. "I know you didn’t think you could sit, but let’s try, yeah?"

Nick nods and lowers himself with Harry’s assistance onto a seat much fluffier than the one on the stationary bike.

"How’s that? Good?"

"Yeah," Nick sighs, lolling his head backwards. “‘S good."

Harry runs the tap, the water growing warm as he gathers up the expensive bottles of shampoo and conditioner that Nick’s stylist tells him he needs or else he’ll basically be a monster. He probably looks like that right now.

"Do I look okay?" he asks Harry and he’s too tired to even care that Harry is laughing.

"Do you look okay? Only you, Grimmy." Nick catches him shaking his head before he closes his eyes again. "You look great. You look like someone who achieved a lot today."

"But fit?"

"Yeah, of course. Always. Now lean back." Nick feels the water pouring over his scalp and it’s lovely. "Temperature good?" Harry asks and Nick just sighs and lets his neck and shoulders go as loose as his body will let them. The shampoo that Harry picked smells like sandalwood, musky and heavy, and he slowly massages it in. He whispers, "That’s right, just relax."

Nick’s whole body feels like it’s tingling but the spots that Harry’s fingers are rubbing especially. Nick can feel him at his temples and his crown and even all the way down to his neck where Harry has one hand always supporting him. He could fall asleep right here. He has no idea how he hasn’t already.

"You’re so lovely. So good to me, I don’t know what I did to deserve this."

"I do," Harry says, reaching again for the cup at the corner of the sink Nick uses to rinse, pouring a warm rush of tap water through his hair.

"Tell me."

"Shhhhh, just rest," Harry says, and Nick’s too tired to argue, especially when Harry starts working a conditioner straight through to his ends with a pull.

He says,”My hair is going to be so silky,” and Nick swears he can feel Harry’s chuckle in his bones.

There’s another sluice of water and Nick wants to only get his hair washed this way from now on. By Harry. With his big, confident hands that know how to knead bread and wash hair and get Nick off better than anyone else.

Nick wishes he had the strength to fuck him tonight. But he can barely lift his head when Harry tells him they’re all done, he’s just going to wrap the towel around for just a second so he doesn’t drip.

"I’m so madly in love with you," Nick says, from underneath that yellow towel that matches none of his bathrooms, Harry rubbing the moisture out of his hair.

And Harry just leans down and kisses his forehead, a drip that’s there never making it down his cheek, whisked away on Harry’s lip instead.

Nick climbs into bed even though the sky maybe isn’t fully dark outside yet and Harry follows in beside him. He falls asleep with Harry petting his hair, working out the tangles.


End file.
